


Without You

by Lady_of_Rohan



Category: Uncharted
Genre: Backstory, Flashbacks, Older Woman/Younger Man, Prequel, Tallowe, lead-in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Rohan/pseuds/Lady_of_Rohan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was always that one little thing they could never live without: each other. Talbot and Marlowe. Lead-in to Uncharted 3. Not a romantic fic but there are some subtle undertones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without You

**Author's Note:**

> My first Tallowe story ever! Although this was written all the way back in January, it was the fic that formed the framework for how my best friend and I view our most beloved ship ♥

 

 

 

 

**Without You**

Slick, leather boots kicked up puddles in her wake and raindrops sloshed against her heels. The downpour was rhythmic as droplets bounced off of her umbrella, almost creating a beat which Marlowe could walk to. The pathway leading towards her manor was a long way from the metal gateway adorning the front of her estate. It wasn't normally an issue, but in such dreadful weather, it was a bit of an inconvenience even in the light of day.

Poised as always, like a queen in her own right, Marlowe folded up her umbrella once she had reached the front steps. A pair of bodyguards held the door open for her as she stepped through the threshold, their voices echoing the same greeting of "good day, Marlowe."

The expansive foyer, with its spiraling staircase, led to the second floor where her study was located. Bathed in warm lighting, the room was decorated lavishly with lush carpeting, portraits of prestigious historical figures, and filled to the brim with bookshelves.

It was there that her protege awaited her arrival, in the place where he spent the vast majority of his time.

"Hello, Talbot."

"Marlowe."

He nodded his head, rushing across the room to relieve her of her jacket. Once it was slipped from her shoulders, he hung it on the coat rack situated in the corner.

"Did you acquire it?" she asked, gesturing towards the metal briefcase sitting upon the table in the middle of the room.

"Of course. It's all here, just as you asked."

Talbot opened the case, revealing bricks of freshly minted bills.

"Good. Very good... " Marlowe picked up one of the stacks and fanned them with her fingertips. It would more than suffice for what Nathan and Sullivan had asked in exchange for Sir Francis' ring. However, there was still the rather important matter of security.

"And what of a bodyguard? Did you secure Cutter?"

"He was eager to aid us."

"You're absolutely _certain_ he's trustworthy?"

Although she hadn't known Cutter for very long, she trusted Talbot's judgment on the matter. He had worked much more closely with him than she had.

"He's done nothing that would lead me to believe otherwise."

"Excellent." There was a long pause, in which Marlowe put the money away and snapped the case closed. "You've done very well today."

He bowed his head in a solemn fashion, his hands folded politely behind his back.

"Thank you."

"Good deeds shouldn't go without their just reward. I've taken the liberty of having a new suit tailored for you."

At that, Talbot's face fell. "Marlowe, that simply isn't necessary. I really cannot accept— "

A resounding sigh escaped her lips as Talbot trailed off into silence. He'd always had trouble accepting any sort of favors on her part. She needn't say anything, as he most assuredly realized his mistake.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, head once again bowed and palms now pressed upon the table in front of him. "I'm very grateful for your generosity."

"You're welcome."

With a faint smile, Marlowe sidled past him as her hand came to rest upon his shoulder. She recoiled at the unexpected dampness of the black material. Talbot's suit was utterly drenched. He had a terrible habit of ruining his clothing... often a one-track mind, with his thoughts focused on a mission rather than his outward appearance. She'd lost count of the times he'd returned to her filthy, beaten, and tattered.

"You're soaked," she said, her brief smile transforming into a frown. "Why don't you go change?"

"Right now?" His lips remained parted as if to utter a protest, but he seemed to have thought better of it. "If you insist."

"I've had your new suit taken to your chambers."

"Thank you, Marlowe."

As his eyes locked with hers, a lopsided smile was upon his handsome features...an expression she had grown so familiar with. It was a piece of boyish charm that he still exuded, even into his thirties.

Sometimes the briefest of glances could take her back, just as vividly as if it had been yesterday. For years she had searched for an apprentice, someone worthy, someone _right_. It seemed to take a cruel eternity for fate to smile upon her, but Marlowe couldn't help but feel a great deal of pride over how far they'd come... and the choices they'd both made together.

Eyes cast downward at the table, she noticed that Talbot's hand was mere centimeters from her own, their skin just barely touching. He allowed his fingers to brush against her hand ever so slightly before he turned swiftly to leave.

"I'll be back shortly."

Marlowe watched as he left the room, soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to his wiry frame. Suddenly, a flood of memories came rushing back into her brain, from all those years ago...

_Marlowe was nearing 40 years of age when she'd caught wind of a troubled young man in the local papers and after doing a bit of research of her own, secured a meeting with him. She'd had many meetings over the course of the last couple of years, but all were failures, and she certainly wasn't getting any younger. Somehow, though, she couldn't deny that she finally felt as if the cards were stacked in her favor._

_Upon first laying eyes upon him, she wasn't quite sure what to make of her prospective protege. A boy of 17, clad in a simple boarding school uniform,with long hair falling into his rather angular face. His attire was disheveled and drenched from the persistent rainfall that continued outside of the school's walls as he stepped into the headmaster's office... and Christ, he was_ skinny _... a bit too thin for his age. His features registered surprise as his eyes fell upon Marlowe, who was currently occupying the oakwood desk._

_"Hello," she greeted._

_"You're... not the headmaster."_

_"My, you_ are _an observant one." The corner of her lips tugged into the faintest of smirks. "Come sit."_

_He hesitated with a palm upon the back of the chair situated on the other side of the desk. When Marlowe raised an eyebrow at him, he slowly sank down into it, his body stiff and his clear blue eyes not leaving her face._

" _What's your name?"_

_"I'm Talbot," he said. She sensed pride in his tone as he made the introduction. That was good. She needed someone who was sure of himself.. and yet, not too cocky._

_"Hrm." She tapped her finger against her chin in thought. "But I know that's not your real name, now is it?"_

_The boy shook his head. "How do you—?"_

_Marlowe pulled a file from the papers scattered upon the desk. She was nothing if not thorough... and it was easy enough to convince the facility to surrender all of his information to her. He was under no one's guidance, after all. A lone feather drifting in the wind... going wherever the breeze swept him. In other words, he was exactly what she'd been searching for._

_"You may not know of me, but I know many things about you. It says here that you're called— "_

_"Does it really matter?" he cut her off quite rudely. She bristled at his tone, but she decided to brush it off. Already, he was giving her some interesting insight. It took a certain kind of person to be ashamed of their own name. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"_

_"Nothing but your obedience... if you will follow in the path of greatness."_

_The boy called Talbot was now shaking his head. "I don't understand."_

_"I'm sure you think you're very clever, don't you? So intelligent, so very_ special _..."_

_"You have no idea what you're talking about," he snapped._

_"Ah, but I do, young man. I hear they're going to expel you due to... certain heinous activities." She perused the papers laying in front of her, releasing a humorless little laugh. "Starting fires in classrooms? And carrying around a concealed knife? Well, it's no wonder you're a threat to the other students...and such a pity, so close to your imminent graduation... it sounds like a cry for attention to me."_

_Marlowe watched as he squirmed in his seat, refusing to make eye contact._

_"Such a sad tale," she continued, flipping through his files."It must be difficult with no direction. Disowned by your parents...tsk tsk. They never do understand, do they?"_

_The boy remained silent as he cast his gaze out the window to his right as the rain pattered against the windowpane. It seemed louder somehow in the stark silence of the room. He was uncomfortable, but she didn't care. He needed to hear this._

_"Have you ever considered where you will go? Hmm? When you're kicked out on the street?"_

_Though she prompted him, he refused to speak. He was proving to be stubborn and defiant. An interesting young man indeed._

_"Talbot," she said firmly. At that, he allowed his eyes to meet hers. "Your abilities would be of great use to us_ _. Of great use to_ me _."_

_His brow furrowed behind his bangs, regarding her warily._

_"What could you possibly want with me?"_

_Marlowe stood for emphasis and began pacing around the desk. "I imagine you're a fan of history, hrm? A man of science? You seem intelligent enough. Come with me, and I can allow you access to a library of knowledge beyond your wildest imaginings. Your talents are mere parlor tricks in comparison to what you could become."_

_"And what is that?"_

_"A great magician. More than a conjurer of cheap illusions."  
_

_"Why would you offer this? I don't even know you."_

_"That will come, with time," said Marlowe, pausing before him. "But I assure you, I know when the cards are right."_

_"What if this isn't what I want?"_

_"Well, that is up to you," she sighed."But the way I see it, you have two choices. Either stay here and be condemned, all of your potential wasted... or you can come with me, become my assistant... perhaps transform into something truly great. Does this interest you?"_

_Awaiting his response, her fingers were tapping lightly against the wooden table. He seemed unconvinced. A long pause ensued, the sound of rain drops reverberating throughout the room._

_"I'll have to think about it."_

_"Very well," she said flatly. "When the time is right, you can reach me here if you so choose."_

_Hands upon her knees, she leaned in so that she was at eye level with him and produced a card with her information written upon it. Talbot took it with hesitation, glancing over it in a suspicious kind of way. It was then that she noticed that his tie wasn't even knotted properly. Quite the little ruffian, it seemed. Being rather particular about appearances, she reached out to fix it._

_Marlowe was a bit surprised when he actually winced as she drew nearer to him, like a kicked dog. She wondered what would have issued such a reaction._

_"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, features softening. Talbot allowed her to fix his tie, relaxing slightly, though still not looking at her. When she was finished, Marlowe placed a palm beneath his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. There was an undeniable fire there, in those startlingly clear eyes of his, wild and rampant. She wanted nothing more than to tame it, control it, make it more powerful..._

_...but the choice remained up to him. She could make promises, but he'd have to accept them. Only time would tell what his decision would be._

_"I'll leave you be," she said, patting his cheek. "But I do hope you think about what I've said."_

_Their meeting was concluded with not another word uttered from Talbot, leaving him sitting alone in the office with the sound of the downpour outside and her card clutched in his palm._

_Marlowe wasn't surprised one bit when he showed up at her doorstep two days later... soaked to the bone, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a small bag of belongings._

 

In her study, Marlowe had to shake her head to rid herself of the sudden nostalgia. The years since they first met had flown by so fast, and that scared little boy had become a man... an admirable man, in whom she placed all her trust. It was due to his loyalty and incredible efforts that she was so close to tasting victory after twenty long years of waiting.

Growing restless waiting for him, Marlowe paced down the hallway and towards Talbot's room, figuring that he should be finished dressing. Pausing outside the door to his chamber, she knocked first before entering.

"Are you decent?"

"Yes, Marlowe."

She allowed herself in to see Talbot regarding himself in the antique mirror stand in the corner of his room. As she had suspected, his new suit was tailored perfectly to his slim frame. Without his jacket on, his trim figure was made all the more apparent. He was in the process of tying his tie, a bright red one to complement the black and white pinstriped suit, when Marlowe uttered a noise of disapproval at the back of her throat.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He paused, turning to face her and looking a bit startled. Marlowe took a few deliberate strides towards him and without asking, grasped at the loose ends of the garment.

"You still can't properly tie one of these to save your life," she scoffed. "Pathetic, really."

Though her tone most certainly sounded as if she was chiding him, she knew that Talbot realized she meant no harm by the comment. Her fingers weren't as agile as they used to be, but she began tying it, nonetheless.

"At last, Talbot... all these years of searching, and we'll have finally won," she said while she worked, her voice almost a whisper. In a few short hours, Talbot would be securing the business transaction with Nathan, the money in return for his beloved ring.

It was almost too good to be true, and suddenly Marlowe was overcome with pride as she allowed her eyes to glance over her protege, poised and pristine... the man she'd always wished he would become. Years of hard work and research... countless dead-ends, small victories, and of course, persistent frustration and an undying pursuit...and it was all boiling down to one vital moment. Furthermore, it was to carried out by the only person she truly trusted in this world so full of betrayal, pain, and mistrust.

Even in light of such excitement, Marlowe's features remained straight, her lips pursed into a thin line. She finished with his tie, taking a step backwards to admire the flawless half-windsor.

"I do hope you realize how very important tonight is. You've been an invaluable asset to our success."

"Of course, Marlowe," Talbot said, giving a solemn nod as he often did, as he adjusted the collar of his stark white shirt."But I couldn't have done this alone. I wouldn't have made it this far without you."

The words seemed to echo in Marlowe's ears, resounding over and over again as she regarded him, his blue eyes seeming to penetrate through the very core of her. Sometimes, the sheer honesty of the man still found a way of catching her off guard. Her delicate lips tugged into a smirk, but she said nothing more... she merely left Talbot to finish getting dressed as she made her way out of the room.

For all her wisdom, all the knowledge that she had bestowed upon her young apprentice, there was one thing that would forever remain a mystery to him: he would never know that deep down, somewhere in her jaded heart...Marlowe felt precisely the same.

 

 


End file.
